Second Portrait to the Right
by TheSpazticFantastic
Summary: Approximately six months after the Northern Expedition, Agnarr talks to Iduna about his father and Lt. Mattias. This takes place in the "When All Is Lost" story line.


A/N: Thank you to everyone reading along. This is part of the "When All Is Lost Series". My collaborator is not on FFN and we do not write the stories in sequence, so if you are looking for all the stories in chronological order you can find them here on A03. Or on Tumblr.

This was inspired by a prompt from androidavenger on Tumblr.

The blizzard had come on so unexpectedly that the snow was waist high before the morning lecture was complete. Iduna cringed inwardly at the thought of trying to make it back to Eir's in these conditions with Askel and the other children. Arendellian clothing and boots just didn't hold up in the cold as well as what she had been used to at home.

"That's a real howler in March, yeah?" one of the larger boys remarked as the students began to crowd the windows, the youngest pressing their noses against the panes. Professor Eidberg frowned into the gray light and tapped his lecturing stick against his leg.

"Perhaps it's best that we adjourn for the day," he said.

"But it's almost lunch!" Greet protested, giving Iduna a disappointed look.

"I bet they already prepared the food," Iduna reassured her. Greet was a bit of a flirt and liked to act older and more jaded than she was, but she was a good person. She knew that Greet liked to pocket the sweet buns for her younger sisters who were still too young to attend the Academy and avail themselves of the free food. Besides, Iduna knew that she never would have learned to read nearly as quickly without her friend's help. "You can probably take a basket home."

"Iddy," Askel tugged on her sleeve. "Are we going to walk back in that?"

"I don't know," she replied uncertainly.

"Of course you won't walk back in that!" Before she turned, Iduna could imagine Agnarr's slightly shocked expression. Sure enough, as the children turned and chorused several overlapping rounds of "Your Majesty", he was the very picture of bemusement in his funny waistcoat and an ascot bearing Arendelle's crest. She smiled as she saw him, she couldn't help it, and bobbed her head. "It's a big castle. We've got plenty of beds. Anyone who wants to stay can spend the night."

"Would it be alright for people to take lunch home, Your Majesty?" She asked.

"Of course," he nodded. "But Iduna, I hope you're not thinking of trying to make the walk back to Eir's. Especially with the young ones."

"We're not that young!" Askel protested. "We could make it!" Agnarr regarded him solemnly.

"Oh, of course _you_ could, Master Runde. But I know that Captain Karsten had hoped to show you the armory at some point. Did you know that your father carved his initials into one of the training swords when he wasn't much older than you? And when he and your mother married, he carved hers right next to them." The boy's face lit up at the mention of his parents, both lost in the failed Northern Expedition. Iduna felt the increasingly familiar surge of warmth for Agnarr she experienced whenever she saw him interact with . . .well, just about anyone. Kindness and caring wore well on the young King.

There was a rush as the students scurried to get food, find boots, don their coats, gloves, mittens, hats and otherwise prepare themselves to venture into the snowy onslaught. One or two parents arrived, concerned enough by the weather that they wanted to fetch their children personally, and Iduna did her best to distract Askel and the others who were watching silently with the occasional trembling lip. It was easier once Agnarr seemed to pull a large box of Belgian chocolate out of nowhere. By the time that Askel was dispatched to the armory with Captain Karsten and the others had glued themselves to various members of the staff, it was nearly two in the afternoon and she still hadn't eaten.

"Thank you," she said earnestly.

"I would never let you all try to make it to Eir's in this," Agnarr gestured at the window. It was being pelted with ice and snow. "I know you're fearless, but you'd be frozen solid after fifteen minutes out there."

"That too, but I meant with the young ones."

"Oh," Agnarr looked at the ground and scuffed the toe of his boot. "Well. We're all orphans. Aren't we?" He shrugged and stared at the burning logs in the fireplace. "I just figured if it'd make me feel better, it'd probably work on them too." Her heart lurched as she recalled all the times he had come out to Eir's over the winter, bearing gifts and extra food.

"You miss your father," she said quietly. "And your mother."

"Honestly, Iduna, I never knew her," he said uneasily as he furiously scratched an ear. "She died right after I was born. A fever. So I shouldn't miss her . . ." He shrugged again and forced a smile. "But I'm being a terrible host. You didn't have lunch either. Would you care to join me?"

"I would love to," she said, taking the arm he offered. She could swear that he had grown in the five months since she had first seen him in the woods. And when he was clearly Making an Effort to be The King, his voice sounded a touch lower than she would usually expect. He led her to a room with a commanding view of the bridge that led to Market Square. The snow was so high it was level with the bridge's walls. There was a wall of book shelves, filled with every kind of book and several navigation tools. Agnarr caught her gaping at them as he released her arm. He smiled.

"You can borrow them whenever you'd like."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She squinted at the titles, slowly sounding them out as Greet had taught her. "I might borrow the one of Fairy Tales. For the little ones at Eir's."

"It's all yours," he chucked and rang a bell on the wall. Iduna opened her mouth to ask what that was supposed to do when a servant opened the door, entered, and gave Agnarr a bow. "Would you mind bringing us lunch in here? Thank you."

"Arendelle really seems to have a thing for bells," she laughed.

"Oh – each room has a different tone. I pull the cord, it rings here, the kitchen and the servant's quarters. The castle is too big to just yell all the time." He gave a one-shouldered shrug and smiled as he sat on the divan. Iduna admired the intricately carved Viking longship that took up nearly half the length of the room. She caught Agnarr watching her with a smile. "My grandfather commissioned it for my father's thirteenth birthday." He turned, draped his arm over the back of the divan, and motioned at the wall. "That's my father. King Runeard."

She was glad he wasn't looking at her when she glanced up at the portrait. For a fleeting instant, she could recall the massive man glowering from across the camp site as she and the other children ran and played with the Wind Spirit. She hadn't know who he was, only that her father had told her to stay away from him and the other foreign soldiers. "That was your father?" She said in wonder.

"Yeah," he said, smile never wavering. "And that one next to him is Lt. Mattias. Father assigned him to me when I was still in short pants."

"Short pants?"

"Oh, they're, uh, these little pants that little boys wear. With long socks. Sometimes with ringlets in your hair," he tugged at a blonde strand with a grin. "But I just wore the short pants." She nodded politely, internally wondering how _they_ could think _she_ was the strange one for just stuffing her boots for warmth.

"We were always together. I saw him more than Father, most of the time, since he was off ruling or traveling north or seeing to the needs of the kingdom." Iduna smoothed her skirt and sat on the far end of the divan, leaning against the arm, watching Agnarr's animated face as he spoke of his guard. "I used to always run after him, begging him to teach me how to sword fight, you know? But he used to tell me that if a King has to draw his sword, something has gone dreadfully, drastically wrong." He looked at her with a grin, clearly waiting for a response. She smiled.

"With all those soldiers, I suppose?"

"Yeah! He also taught me to play chess."

"Chest?"

"No, chess," he rolled over the back of the divan and practically skipped to the far wall to motion at a small table covered in tiny wooden sculptures. Iduna laughed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with that game."

"No? Well, I wasn't either until Lt. Mattias taught me how to play." He picked up a small black piece and studied it. "I can teach you sometime."

"I'd like that." He carefully put the piece back. "It sounds like he meant a lot to you."

"Yeah," she watched as his smile went sad. "Minister Hannasel once said that Lt. Mattias taught me everything I knew. And Lt. Mattias told him that he had only taught me everything that he knew and that Father had filled my head up with the rest. How to be a good king and all. Father taught me it was important to be in command. In control at all times. That the will of the King shapes the people and the kingdom." He had wandered in front of the portraits and was looking up at them, hands clasped behind his back. "Lt. Mattias taught me it was important to treat people graciously, even if you don't necessarily like or even trust them. He always said it's better to keep people close to you if only so you can keep a close eye on them. Figure out what they want and how they see the world. Then you could see the big picture and always be a few steps ahead of everyone else."

Iduna shifted uneasily as he spoke, reluctant to question the memory of the man who clearly meant so much to him. Agnarr was still gazing at the portrait. "But what really impressed me was how he took care of his soldiers. He always ate last. At every meal. All the junior troopers ate first. And one time, on a winter maneuver that Father let me watch, a new recruit forgot his coat and it was freezing out. So Mattias took his off his coat without a second thought and handed it to him. He got the worst head cold. He'd always dig the first privy pit on a bivouac, take the midnight watch so everyone else could get some sleep," Agnarr chuckled. "This one time, Iduna, he knew a soldier took off without permission because her mom was really sick. So he took over morning roll call and just acted like she was there until she nursed her mom back to health and she came back to the barracks. He used to tell me that a leader should never ask one of his or her people to do anything that they wouldn't do themselves first. He always said 'Mission, Men, Me – in that order, Agnarr. It's the only way to do things'. He was a great man."

"He sounds like he was," she said sincerely. Agnarr had just described a man who reminded her a bit of her father. Who put others first and tried to do what was right. A handful of servants came in with plates, cutlery, cups and trays. He motioned for her to sit at one of the small tables as they bustled around, setting the places and serving the food.

"Thank you, Tanvir," Agnarr said as he settled into his chair. Iduna followed his gaze back to the portrait. "I wonder if he'd be proud of me. If he'd think I've been doing the right things so far."

"Your Majesty," the elderly man he had addressed as Tanvir stopped in the middle of scooping the potatoes. "Your late father, God rest his soul, is smiling upon you. I'm certain that not a day goes by that you don't make him proud."

"Absolutely, King Agnarr," a stout maid with blonde braids nodded. "King Runeard would be pleased as punch at how you've been handling everything." As the other two servants also hurried to state how proud his father would have been, Iduna gently tapped his foot under the table with hers and nodded at the portrait of Lt. Mattias. She winked and he blushed.

"I'm certain that he's proud of you, Your Majesty," she said with a knowing smile.


End file.
